Behind the Mask
by Zenna95
Summary: Random little human-AU character study of Prussia. Rating due to... well, it's Gilbert. Let's just say bad choices and general nastiness.


**A/N**: This was really just me rambling- a background for an all-human AU Prussia. I suppose you could call it a character study, if you really wanted to categorize it.  
>In any case, I don't own Hetalia- thus why I'm posting this on FFN :P<p>

* * *

><p>Gilbert is only ten when his father dies, his younger brother six. 'How sad,' he hears them say. 'How strange,' and 'how unnatural.' But he will not cry in front of them- in front of little Ludwig. The blond child is only just on this side of bursting into tears again, and his older brother refuses to be the one factor that pushes him over the edge.<p>

So he throws himself to the other extreme, as far away from the sadness as possible. He does everything and anything he can for even a flash of happiness, however brief. And he listens.

He listens as Ludwig cries himself to sleep every night, though the younger boy tries to muffle his sobs. But when Gilbert tries to comfort his precious little brother, he is met with only denial and cold walls; already the boy has learned to hide potential weakness.

He listens to his family's descriptions of him and how they change. He can still remember sweet little Lily saying his hair reminded her of a white rabbit, Roderich likening the albino's eyes to garnets. But now his cousins, his aunts and uncles... they have no kind words for him. His hair is bone-white, his eyes pools of blood. He is the bad child, and he is shipped from home to home as each in succession becomes frustrated. He cannot even remember, now, the last time he saw his brother, or the last time he was in the same school for more than a week. Those are things of the past, from when Vati was still alive.

And he listens, horrified, as his current guardians agree to send him into the foster system and concoct a story to feed the officials.

* * *

><p>Gilbert is twelve, now, and settled in northern Russia against his will. This family refuses to give him up, is determined to break him like a recalcitrant horse. He hardly ever sees the man of the house, someone he only vaguely remembers as tall and dark-haired. Instead, the oldest girl, Marie, takes care of them- Gilbert and his other adoptive siblings, Ivan and Natalya. Marie is the most normal out of the bunch, the albino has concluded. Gilbert himself is more vindictive than ever. Ivan seems to have taken it upon himself to train the newcomer in his father's stead, when he's not hiding from his sadistic younger sister. The 'training' is no more than beatings whenever he steps out of line- whenever he so much as thinks something wrong, the pale boy grumbles to himself, harboring a secret theory that his new 'brother' is telepathic. He curbs his behavior, if only to avoid broken bones; Ivan has a mean punch.<p>

As soon as he looks old enough to pass as a college student, he flees westward; in Europe, at least, he will have a chance to live.

* * *

><p>Eighteen, now, he arrives in America, in a middle-of-nowhere town where no one knows who he is or what he's gone through. He is enrolled in the local high school, quickly becoming popular among the student body (if not the faculty).<p>

And he hides his past in a little box in the back of his brain, behind the obnoxious, mocking mask he has carefully built since his departure from Russia. Here, he can hide among the crowds, despite his appearance. Here, no one questions him- at least, not far enough to crack the facade. His classmates are deflected by a laugh and a made-up story; his teachers are fooled by half-forged paperwork. His appearance is deemed 'awesome,' which suits him just fine. He drowns himself in the teeming human mass and returns to his old habits.

He gets himself a fake ID, well-versed in the procedure; it varies only slightly from the European process. He drinks. He goes whoring. He hides his money in various places around the house, rather than trusting it to a bank. He never lets anyone get closer than friendship.

And every night, he sits, alone, and cries for all he has lost.


End file.
